


Slumber Party

by pocketmouse



Category: Psych
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Emotional Constipation, Guess Which Character Gets Which Tag, Multi, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3158108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketmouse/pseuds/pocketmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Partners on the streets, partners between the sheets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slumber Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Settiai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Settiai/gifts).



> Sort of a 'five scenes in a bed,' but it's really more of a 'five scenes where beds are referenced,' oops. Post-ep codas for:
> 
> Yang 3 in 2D  
> Santabarbaratown Part 1  
> Lassie Jerky  
> Deez Nups  
> The Break-Up
> 
> Assumes Shawn and Gus and Jules got together when Shawn and Jules did in-show.

Somebody's knee is in his hip.

Not that this is much of a surprise, as said someone's nose is pressed into his shoulder, half-draped over Gus and clinging limpet-like as he snores on, undisturbed by whatever has woken Gus.

His Blackberry is vibrating its way closer and closer to the edge of the nightstand, and he barely manages to work one arm loose of sloth-Shawn in time to grab it before it makes a swan-dive to freedom.

It's a text message from Jules. _Is Shawn with you?_

Gus had closed all the blinds before shoving Shawn into the bed and falling in after him. He'd barely taken the time to strip out of his own clothes, let alone put on his usual pajamas. All light sources, including the clock, had been covered, leaving him with only the phone itself to clue him into the time. 4:34. Maybe Jules was done at the station early. _Took him back to my place and we crashed._ He hesitates. _Come over; I'll buzz you up._

"Collateral," Shawn mumbles. Gus looks him over — hard to do with Shawn's face practically tucked into his armpit — but Shawn seems fine, just dreaming or sleep-sleuthing, so he rearranges the duvet Shawn had stolen, tucks his phone underneath his free hip, and pulls Shawn's abandoned pillow over his face to block out the slight late afternoon sunlight that still manages to make its way around the cracks in the blinds.

Shawn is still doing his best mollusk impression when Juliet texts again, and he's warm, and comfortable — and ok, maybe still doesn't want to let Shawn out of his sight. So he replies with the location of his current hide-a-key, and soon there's the click of the door, and footsteps in the hallway. Lingering paranoia (in case it's _not_ Jules) and the need to be polite (in case it _is_ ) force him to work his way out from under the pillow.

It is Jules. She grins at the picture the two of them must make, and Gus shrugs, a sort of 'what can you do?' He can see some of the tension leave her shoulders, and he feels a little sorry. He's had Shawn to himself all day, but she's been stuck doing follow-up work to a very personal case.

The mattress shifts as she sits down and Shawn grumbles, stubbornly trying to sleep through everything. He uncurls some, almost kneeing Gus in the groin in the process. He's also now hugging Gus like a teddy bear. "Sorry," he whispers, feeling his face flush, both because of the way Shawn is all over him and the coy grin on Juliet's face. He's still getting used to the idea she's _their_ girlfriend, who understands just how codependent their relationship is and is actually okay with it, but it's still embarrassing.

"I read your statements," she says, almost a non-sequitur. "He almost lost you today." She slips one of her hands — cold, and tiny, but surprisingly strong — into his. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks. I —" He's really not sure what to say in response. "You too." He doesn't know what happened on Juliet's end, not yet, but she's got that bandage on her temple and that look in her eyes, after last time…

"Jules, get in here." Shawn doesn't move, not even to take his face out of Gus's chest, but he's not sleep-talking this time.

"Let me wash up first."

"Juuuuuuules," Shawn actually frees a hand from under Gus at that, flapping it in her general direction, but she deftly avoids it. "Brush your teeth later."

"You'll thank me for it later. And I hope you brushed your teeth too, because I'm not kissing someone who's been walking around all day with morning breath."

"Gus made me," he grumbles, hand burrowing back down into the blankets.

Juliet doesn't take long in the bathroom, and Gus watches as she disrobes. It's pretty dark now, so it's just her silhouette as she borrows a hanger from the closet for her suit jacket and pants, leaving them hooked over the closet handle. Jules doesn't keep any of her own clothes here, but she moves to Shawn's drawer and pulls out a t-shirt. It's not the way she looks, half-naked in his bedroom, that shoots a spark of warmth through him — though he's hardly unmoved by it. It's the easy way she moves around his space, through their things, like she has no doubt she belongs there.

She slides beneath the covers quickly, hardly disturbing their cocoon. "Hi, Gus," she says. One hand combs through Shawn's hair, petting him like a cat.

"Hi Jules," he replies, trying to keep his voice its normal cool register.

"Gus sandwich!" Shawn declares.

"Shawn —"

"Gus sandwich sounds good to me." He turns toward Juliet in surprise. "I might actually get some sleep that way. Now quiet down — anyone not sleeping better be giving me a foot rub. And I expect waffles when I wake up."

"I ate your waffles," Shawn replies. "Turns out they don't travel."

"Color me unsurprised. And I expect new ones."

"Gus makes great waffles."

" _Gus_ has work in the morning," he reminds them.

"Gus is the reigning naptime partner champion since 1979, and Jules is about to find that out. So come on and stop hogging all the blankets."

"Me? I'm not the one who —"

"Hey, I was serious about the foot rub thing." Jules's petting hand gives them both a light swat. "Come on, I've been up for over 36 hours now and I would _really_ like to get some sleep."

"Sorry Jules," they reply in stereo. Gus expects Shawn to follow this up with a kiss, but he mostly just turns his head into her arm where it's still petting him and nuzzles it in a lazy, sloppy semi-kiss. Still, Jules kisses him back, and then Gus, while Shawn's giving him the same sort of messy half-kiss, and Gus can't really reach Shawn's head without bending his neck ninety degrees, so he settles for a quick squeeze.

Jules wraps an arm over Gus, knuckles brushing against Shawn as he adjusts to wrap around them both. "Sleep," she says, and somehow, that's what they do.

* * *

"Jules?"

Juliet whipped around, startled, but it was just Gus. Of course it was — this was his apartment, and she was standing in his kitchen at nearly one in the morning, waiting for the microwave to finish heating her tea. "Sorry," she whispered. "Is Shawn still asleep?"

"Dead to the world," Gus replied, equally quietly, then winced at his choice of phrasing. "You know what I mean. Why're you up? Nothing happened to Shawn's dad, did it?"

She shook her head, and stopped the microwave right before it could beep. "No. Nothing new, anyway. He's stable, so frankly the hard part now is keeping Shawn from going off the rails."

"Yeah," Gus said. "He's not going to stop looking for the people responsible for getting his dad shot."

Juliet nodded. "There's no way he's going to let me help — I'm bound by police procedure, and he's not." Gus nodded in agreement. "Which of course puts him at a much higher risk of getting hurt." She huffed out a sigh. "You saw him today. He's being so reckless. If he doesn't get himself hurt in the process, he's still risking tainting any evidence he does find and getting the whole thing thrown out if it ever makes it to court. But if he'll just let me _help_ —" she stopped short, realizing she was almost yelling.

"Woah, hey, Jules —" Carefully, telegraphing every move, Gus wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She thought about shoving him away for a moment, then gave in and leaned into the hug. "I don't know if you've met Shawn or not," she snorted a little at this. "But he's pretty much a 'better to ask forgiveness than permission' type of guy. He usually manages to work it so by the time you catch him to grant that theoretical forgiveness, he's gotten something else along the way to make sure he gets it. He hasn't lost sight of the bigger picture, he's just stopped caring about it. But he knows you haven't, and that puts you squarely in the 'ask forgiveness' camp." He pulled back a little to look at her. "I think sometime around second grade he put me in the 'always gives permission' camp."

"I think he put you in a closer camp than that," she said. Gus made a careful noise of agreement and she kissed his cheek before breaking away to retrieve her tea. "When I worry about something, I plan obsessively. Chart it all out, you know? Right now this whole thing is spinning through my head, and I thought maybe if I came down here and did a couple mind maps, I could let it go enough to get back to sleep." She gestured to the paper and pens on the table. Gus had a horrifying lack of colored markers. "I don't think it's working so far, but it's at least keeping me from shaking Shawn until he sees reason."

"You'd be shaking him a long time," Gus replied.

"He's really hung up on his dad getting shot. Which I totally understand, it's terrible. But I wasn't expecting this —" she searched for the right phrase "— desire for retribution. Their relationship confuses the hell out of me."

"It probably confuses the hell out of them, too." Gus moved one of the papers so he could see the one below it. "They used to have a relatively normal relationship, but then when Shawn's parents divorced, his dad couldn't say anything without Shawn taking it the wrong way, sometimes on purpose. Things have been better since Shawn moved back, but I think seeing his mom again really helped. And well, growing up in general."

"I can't begin to express how glad I am that I didn't know Shawn when he was a teenager."

Gus nodded. "It wasn't pretty."

Jules sat down and pulled out the chart she'd started making of the ties between the various criminal parties. "You know, I'm pretty lucky to have a boyfriend that comes with a built-in manual. Two, technically."

Gus laughed. "Don't think I know how Shawn works all the time. I've just learned how to deal with him. There are plenty of times where I don't know what he's thinking or what he's going to do next."

"Still, Gus. Thanks."

"Of course." A pause. "And I'm glad we've got you. You're the only one who has a chance at getting him to listen to reason sometimes."

"And then only sometimes," she agreed. "Though I think you're selling yourself short there."

Gus said nothing for a moment. "You coming back up to bed?"

"In a bit. I want to get this all down at least."

"Okay," he said. "Don't stay up too long." He kissed her cheek.

"Just long enough for you to miss me," she said, and kissed him back.

"Too late for that," he said with a grin, and ducked out the door before she could throw a pen at him.

* * *

"We have the most kickass girlfriend ever," Shawn says, for what has to be the 50th time in the last hour.

"We do, but I think at the moment said girlfriend is getting ready to kick _your_ ass," Gus said, pulling Shawn to a stop with a finger in the back of his collar.

Juliet sighed. "Thank you, Gus." She pulled the comb through her hair impatiently. A hot shower had helped a lot, but now what she really wanted was to sleep in her own bed, and not one made out of pine branches and sweaters.

"You know I'm still up for that massage if you want it," Shawn said, slightly calmer now.

"I just want to sleep," she replied. It came out almost a whine. "Sorry, I —" She stared at the comb for a moment, unsure.

Gus took the comb from her and set it down on the dresser. "Jules, I can _see_ the tension in your back. Let Shawn do his thing. He's actually pretty good, when he's not causing the knots in the first place." He led her to the bed. "By the time I'm done in the shower, you'll probably be asleep."

"I think that's true either way," she said with a faint smile.

"Because Gus takes the longest of any of us," Shawn added, but he didn't put much effort into the tease. "Come on, it hurts to watch you move. Lie down." Giving in, she obliged, tugging off the towel and settling down on her front on the bed, letting Shawn fix the sheets around her in a surprisingly modest arrangement.

The biggest surprise in dating Shawn Spencer was, without a doubt, the amount of care he could put into something when he really focused. She'd had her suspicions, of course, from the way it felt when even a fraction of that attention had been aimed at her. And he was obviously a very unselfish lover; there was never a word from him or his best friend about unhappy exes. But the amount of focus and energy still took her by surprise. Shawn might be terrible at _saying_ how he felt, but he was amazing at demonstrating it, and in a way that made it obvious he was wholly aware of the meaning behind the gestures he made.

"Good," Shawn said, sounding pleased. "You deserve a break after taking down the Serbian mafia."

"It wasn't the Serbian mafia, it was a _couple_ Serbs," she protested.

"But it was bad _ass_. Both of you. How is Lassie, anyway?" Shawn asked as he kneeled carefully over her, one knee on either side of her thighs.

"Theoretically he's in surgery right now. Big Ed cleaned up the injury pretty well, so they're not too worried about infection, but that trap did a lot of muscle and maybe ligament damage — it didn't come off until we got him out of the water, and that water was pretty rough."

"Ouch. He hid that pretty well." Shawn started to work on her lower back. "And that's not even counting his shoulder. We'll stop by tomorrow. Do they make ammo gift baskets?"

"We're not getting Carlton an ammo gift basket. No matter how much he'd probably appreciate it."

"He'll just have to settle for his own copy of the Academy Award-winning —"

"That footage is all evidence now, Shawn, it's not going to Cannes."

"Oh come on, we've got to do something with it, especially after Lassie saved my camera from that lady hawk."

"That _was_ pretty impressive." Jules let him work for a while in silence, savoring the quiet after a hectic — and slightly terrifying — day. Her shoulders ache especially, probably from the combination of hand-to-hand and firing unfamiliar weapons. Big Ed outweighed her at least three times over, most of his weaponry had a higher level of kickback than she was used to. Either Shawn could feel it, or he really was paying attention to the way she was carrying herself earlier, because he gave them extra attention, working out the knots in her shoulders and neck, wringing out every last ounce of tension until she was practically a puddle on the mattress.

"You're awfully quiet," she said at last.

"I think I'm stuck on a mental replay of all the ways you kicked ass today."

"Shawn, you've seen me take down criminals plenty of times."

"Yeah, but this was a whole bunch of scary tough Serbian — it was really hot, okay Jules?" Shawn had run out of knots to work out of her back, and he was just playing around now.

"In a 'my girlfriend can beat up your girlfriend' sort of way?" If he made even one jello-wrestling joke…

"Yeah, I guess, but mostly in a 'my girlfriend can beat up _anyone_ ' sort of way." There was raw admiration in his voice, and Juliet was surprised by how much she liked that, liked him liking that. She was always been careful to make sure people knew she was both a woman and a cop, but maybe with the way things have been lately, Shawn had been noticing the woman part more. Which she couldn't really complain about, so long as he didn't forget about the cop part, either.

"Not _anyone_ ," she said. "But I definitely could take you."

"Jules, you can take me any way you want me."

She laughed at the cheesy delivery. "Any way you want it, that's the way you need it —" she sang into the pillow, warbly and off key.

Shawn burst into laughter and dropped down onto the mattress next to her. "Okay, if you're going to start singing Journey that badly, I think it really is time for you to go to sleep."

* * *

The worst part about breaking up with your girlfriend, besides the breaking up, and the reminder of what a horrible human being you are, isn't needing to find somewhere else to live. It's getting your mutual boyfriend in trouble and _also_ broken up, and therefore being in trouble with him as well, and so forced to sleep on the worst couch ever put together by tiny Swedish gnomes.

He supposed the whole thing should have reminded him of his parents' divorce. But for all he'd taken his anger out on his father at the time, Shawn was beginning to see that he'd mostly been caught up in his own drama. He'd avoided the house as much as he could in those weeks and months of sorting out what stuff would go with Mom, what stuff would get packed away, and what would stay where it was. _He_ had stayed where he was, until he'd taken off for good. There hadn't been this sudden physical upheaval.

Gus had proven his continued candidacy for sainthood by not only letting Shawn crash at his place, but not chewing him out for fucking up the best thing to ever happen to either of them. He knew Shawn well enough to know it wasn't needed in order for Shawn to stew in it.

Which he was. Stewing over his own idiocy was, unfortunately, the least pathetic reason for why he was up at 4 AM on Gus's godawful couch that didn't fold out and did _not_ have proper lumbar support, whatever that was. QVC was playing muted on the TV — the only channel Shawn could find that would let his brain wander as his ADD liked without getting actually sidetracked by fake plot. He should be working on figuring out how to win Jules back, but short of inventing a time machine and slapping past-him upside the head, Shawn couldn't think of a thing. Years of lying wasn't going to get fixed by good behavior. Not even the 'proof I'll change my ways,' kind. Seeing Jules with her dad and step-dad had proven that.

Problem was, Shawn couldn't think of what that _left_.

The leather of the sofa creaked as Gus sat down next to him, close enough that they were touching from hip to knee. "You gotta get some sleep, man," Gus said.

Shawn nodded without taking his eyes off the TV. He could feel Gus looking him over.

"You actually gonna get any sleep out here?" He didn't need sleep. He needed an _answer_.

After a minute of silence, Gus wrapped a hand around his shoulder. "Come on." Shawn didn't really _mind_ being punished with the couch of a thousand aches, but he wasn't going to fight Gus, either. He let his friend push him into the bedroom and onto the bed. "Roll over Shawn, I know you reset my alarm whenever you sleep on that side of the bed." He moved without any protest.

He lay there in the darkness for what felt like an eternity before he finally said "How come you never left?"

"What?" Gus rumbled. "I was sleeping, Shawn."

"No you weren't," he dismissed. Instead he scrunched his way closer under the covers until they were front-to-back. "All the shit I've pulled, the trouble I've gotten us into, the trouble I've gotten _you_ into, lying to you, lying to your bosses, your parents, taking off and expecting you to pick back up right where we left off and you _do_ —"

"Shawn, you know I'm not Juliet, right?"

"Well, I _am_ a psychic —"

"Shawn. Juliet and I are two completely different people with completely different life experiences. You can't compare us and hope that the kind of peace offerings that work on me would work on her. You know perfectly well why Juliet is upset over the way you — _we_ — lied to her — not only for the last six years but especially once you understood why your lying like this is such a personal thing for her."

"Of course I do. But you —" he stopped short.

"I," Gus sighed, "have known you since before you were able to talk me into things. I've known you since before you grew this stupid jokester class clown shell of yours. You're shit at letting people see all of you, see the real you, Shawn. But I do. Most times because I don't have a choice." Gus said this with a kind of amused weariness. "But also because we've been through enough together that you don't know how to shut me out. I may not always know what you're doing. Hell, I don't even always know why. But I know you well enough to know that you've always got a good reason and good intentions. I can count on one hand the number of times you've done something for truly selfish reasons. _Stupid_ reasons, I don't think anyone can count that high. But selfish? No."

Something in Shawn's guts clenched. "Thanks, Gus. I think I needed to hear that."

"Sure thing, man."

"And Gus?"

"Yeah?"

"We're not going to tell anybody about this."

"You're damn right."

* * *

The ring is retrieved without too much fuss, considering that Gus nearly steers them on the freeway to Santa Barbara twice, and then has another mini-breakdown while they're actually confronting the jewelry thieves, leading one of the thieves to ask who, exactly, Shawn is marrying.

They also turn out to be part of a much larger underground operation the SFPD has been trying to get their hooks into for years, so, go team.

When Juliet is done turning the criminals over to a uniformed officer with a cruiser, and Shawn is done helping Gus with his deep breathing, it's nearly 5:00, and the chief tells Juliet to come in early the next day rather than waste most of her remaining work time in traffic. After a few minutes of internal debate, she shuffles the 'borrowed' student driver car off on the uniformed officers as well, and shepherds Shawn and Gus into her own vehicle. They both end up in the back, since Gus won't let go of her fiancé.

The tour of the her new place is brief — it pretty much starts and ends in the bedroom. After what Juliet hopes is only round one of the most amazing sex she's had in months, she sits up enough to say "I can't believe you were really going to just leave Gus without a word."

Shawn sighs. "I thought maybe Gus didn't need me any more, and I may have panicked."

She's all set to (very carefully) tear into Shawn for that when Gus heaves a very large sigh and rolls over, landing half on top of Shawn. "Shawn, you didn't stop being my best friend when I chose someone else to make a piñata with at summer camp; you didn't stop being my best friend when you decided to withdraw your life savings' the moment you turned eighteen, spend it all on a motorcycle, and spend ten years doing god knows what with only the occasional postcard or call requesting bail money as your only contact. Why in the hell would you think that moving five hours away would be the line where I said no?"

"Because I can't marry you both," Shawn says quietly. He visibly searches for words. "I would, if I could, you know. In a heartbeat. But I thought 'what if they overturn the ruling again?' and I thought maybe you two should — but I'm the one we say is the boyfriend when people ask, because I'm the handsy one, the clingy one, and I —"

"You act perfectly appropriately towards the people you're in a relationship with," Jules says, clapping a hand over Shawn's mouth, the panicked flow almost painful to listen to. "You are also the most impulsive person I've ever met, and sometimes you let your brain get ahead of your common sense. I would marry you. I would marry Gus. I would marry both of you if that wouldn't probably get me kicked out of the police force. But I can't do either if you don't let us know what's going on in your head _before_ you do it. None of us are actually psychic, remember," she says dryly.

Shawn nods.

"We can do a private ceremony," Gus adds. "Or we can trade places for the wedding rehearsal."

"Gus, I'm sure you'd look lovely, but I don't think you'd fit in Jules' wedding dress." Shawn replies, looking slightly more relaxed now.

Jules leans over and kisses him. "You realize you proposed to me in front of a street full of people, made multiple references to Gus, and said 'Marry us' instead of 'Marry me,' right? Most of the people we'd invite to the wedding wouldn't be the least bit surprised to see both of you up there."

"Here, you marry him, I'll keep claiming him on my taxes," Gus suggests. He wraps his arms around Shawn and pulls him in until they're spooned up close together.

"Partners on the streets, partners between the sheets," Shawn says, sing-song. Gus laughs and kisses the back of his neck.

Jules laughs too and moves in to kiss them both. Shawn's arms wrap around her, and her feet tangle with Gus's. For the first time in months she finally feels like she is home.


End file.
